cheek before shaking hands with Rhett.
“Right.” I assumed he sold the house when he moved to Adelaide, but he obviously still uses it. Understandable since the farmhouse is a little crowded and not ideal for him to be bringing women home.
“Mum set it up for me to surprise you all here,” he says and ruffles her hair. I laugh because Mum hates it, and it’s something he’s always done since we were teenagers when we were taller than her by the age of thirteen.
Mum does her best to fix her hair without looking exasperated. “Do you mind getting me a beer?”
“On it,” I say. “Tori?”
“A glass of sparkling water, thanks.”
Rhett speaks gently to her, and she nods. He wanders over to a group of guys, and I vaguely recall some faces from when they would hang out at our house when I was a boy. The ten-year age gap between Rhett and me means these guys have changed a lot from when I last saw them.
“Dickhead.”
I turn before I reach the bar. The one voice I remember. An old friend who called me dickhead in an affectionate way. An old friend who almost got me killed several times and one I’m surprised is not locked away by now. We never kept in touch. Our lives were on different paths. I’m amazed he’s still in town because even as fifteen-year-olds, he despised living here.
Since I left, my body’s grown and not only in height. My shoulders are double the size of his. I get a glimpse of his waif-like body and frown. “Hey, Stoner.” I shake his hand. “It’s been a few years.”
“What is it, eight years?” He smiles, revealing several missing teeth, and those remaining are decayed. I pray he got off the drugs he wanted to introduce to me.
“So, you’re still here?”
He nods. “We weren’t all gifted with the talent of the Williams family.”
I nod slowly. “It wasn’t all fun and games.”
His forehead crinkles. “You look to be doing okay?”
“I am,” I say warily. “How’s your family?”
“Parents kicked the bucket. My sister is married with a family.”
Shit. I didn’t know his parents passed. I’m a shitty friend because he was the one person who got me through some hard days as a kid, even if his ways were debatable. Behind the drugs, he had a good heart.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs likes it’s nothing. His phone rings, and he answers it. I turn and lean on the bar, signalling to the barman. Stoner raises his voice over the excited hums and music in the pub.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute... not tonight… all right, I’m coming now. Sorry,” he says to me. “I have to go. A job just came up.”
I hold his gaze, understanding what type of job he is talking about. “Look after yourself,” I tell him with sincerity. “If you need anything, please call Rhett, and he’ll get onto me.”
He nods. “Well, I might see ya ‘round.”
“Sure.” He weaves around the patrons and rushes out the front. I let out a sigh, knowing this could have been my path if my brother didn’t step in. My drinks arrive, and while waiting, I glance up to the television in the corner to a newsflash in Brisbane. The volume is lowered. On the screen is a gang-related crime, and I swear the face that flashed on was Phoenix, Star’s father. I endeavour to block out the noise, except it’s useless. I pull out my phone from my pocket and check the screen.
No missed calls or text messages.
I pop it into my pocket when the barman delivers our drinks.
“It’s on the house, Dustin,” he says. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you. And Merry Christmas to you.”
“I’ll buy you a drink,” says a stranger who I should probably know.
It’s going to be a long night.
9
My phone alarm beeps at six in the morning.
I turn it off without completely opening my eyes.
Clambering out of bed, I stretch and pull on shorts and runners and head out to the kitchen.
“Merry Christmas,” Mum sings. The kitchen already smells like roast turkey. She’s chopping vegetables while humming a festive tune.
“Merry Christmas.” Weaving around the table I come from behind and kiss her on the cheek. “I won’t be long. A quick run is all I need to open my lungs.”
She wipes her hands on a towel and shoos me along. “If you run along the main road with your shirt off, you’re going to cause an accident with the young female drivers.”
I smile at Mum. “You’re biased. You